


Mistaken Identities

by GunTotingScienceNerd



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, M/M, Past Lives, Redemption, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-09-26 14:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9904487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GunTotingScienceNerd/pseuds/GunTotingScienceNerd
Summary: radio-cybertron on Tumblr posted this thread and the bunny bit hard.You know- you start to wonder- if Prime and Megatron were ALWAYS meant to be together, either in flight/fight or frag.Then what if we were assuming it was the wrong Prime the entire time.What if it had ALWAYS been Rodimus this entire time, and not Optimus. What is if why that’s their relationship was always doomed to fail, because despite them HAVING that chemistry- they weren’t the right ones for each other.What if the LL was the whole catalyst needed for those to meet.What if Rodimus was the right prime this entire time.





	1. Chapter 1

_In a time before time, there was one, but the one became lonely and split himself into thirteen. The Thirteen were beloved and unique in their interdependence, separate but equal, individuals but collective. They adored and cared for each other as they would themselves. They were touted above all others and worshiped by those that came after._

_In perfection, there can be flaws and what was once whole and beautiful became separate and strained. They spread themselves across their creator planet to care for those that came after._

_Two of the Thirteen found companionship within each other. Regaining some of the intimacy that had been lost over time. Though the Two loved their cohort, they sought out each other more and more to ease their loneliness. As closeness grew, and the two became unique within their brethren._

_All the while Darkness had watched. It had become influential in the push and_ pull of _the Thirteen's daily lives, in the demands placed on their sparks, on the time they spent apart. Until one day, the Darkness found its route in through the longings of those separate from the two. The Darkness was so thorough in twisting their already strong emotions that Darkness was finally able to act._

_Jealousy was not something any of the Thirteen were familiar with, they lived and loved and served and only knew happiness in giving until the Darkness whispered to One of the Two. “They will take her from you.” It whispered, voice silky smooth and edged with mock fear. “They are jealous of something they cannot understand.” When Darkness firmly had his ear, it would whisper its lies and feed him pictures of a future that might be, of despair and loneliness, of One without Two, of how the others would mock him for what he thought he had and had lost._

_So one night with the grip of Darkness darkening his heart Megatronus, sought out Solus telling her the words that poisoned his spark. She could not see the realness of his imagined danger Megatronus came at her, telling her all the while he would seek her forgiveness in the next life when she could understand why he had to do what must be done for them both._

_When Solus lay dead and gray at Megatronus' feet, Darkness celebrated his victory as Megatronus howled at his loss before tearing out his spark. As his spark beat it's last, he begged their creator give him an opportunity to atone for his sins in whatever lay beyond. That in his infinite kindness if their creator could see to let them have the chance that Darkness had stolen from them Megatronus would become the Protector his beautiful Prime would need to keep Darkness from ever touching such a blessed spark again._

_As his frame grayed around him and his body shut down, their creator whispered in his mind that he would allow Megatronus to fulfill his oath. However to ensure he truly meant his promise there would be many trials and tribulations along the way. But if he could endure and hold steadfast then once Solus' forgiveness was earned they would be together as they had longed to be._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’d been going too fast after so much time off his wheels, that had to be it.

_Time continued as time was wont to do, and the lessons of history were forgotten. To those doomed to repeat them the story of The Thirteen and their downfall became a thing of speculation and theology. For others, it was a flight of fancy told to hatchlings before bed. But the blight of The Thirteen remained. Staining all those that would come after. Stains are like a wound that will not heal. As time goes on the more, they will reveal._

 

~

 

 The medic walked out of the operating theater, hands covered in various bodily fluids. He was followed closely behind by his colleague, “The Primes’ are all cursed. Not one I’ve served has met with a peaceful end.”

 “Yeah, it does appear that way, doesn’t it?” Matrix chosen or not, they all seem to meet a bloody, painful end.”

 “Sad really, if you think about it. If this is how Primus treats his chosen then what’s in store for the rest of us slaggers.”

 “Yeah.”

 They fell silent both taking time at the sinks to scrub careful to remove all traces of the mech they had lost. Their minds wandering to how long before they would be expected to save another. Sparks weighed down by the endless cycle of violence and loss.

 

~

 

_On the other side of Cybertron, a newly upgraded final stage mechling rubbed at his ever sore chest._

_The weight of a never ending ache particularly heavy this night._

 

~

 

 For as long as Hot Rod could remember his spark felt a pang of sadness that couldn’t be defined and would never completely go away. In time the feeling became familiar. There were times though that in the quiet and in the dark Hot Rod would let his mind believe that the longing was someone missing him, some wanting him. But the incoming tide of war wouldn't allow childish fantasies.

 He filled his days with doing his best to save the city that needed him, and fight for those that still called this place home. But on days that were too few and too far between, he managed to slip away unnoticed and listen to an orator that spoke with passion about the world where fighting to survive was a thing of the past; or at least to tried to slip away unnoticed, today he wasn’t so lucky.

 “Hot Rod, I know what you’re thinking. And you know what I’m going to say.” Camber shook his head knowing these words were falling on deaf ears but hoping all the same that the young mech would listen this time.

 “Well, if you know all that then you know I’m going to go.” As the look of disappointment crossed his longtime friend and mentor’s face, Hot Rod added one caveat. “I promise Camber. I’ll be back before I’m missed.”

 “Hot Rod you are always missed. The moment it gets quiet we all know it’s because you’re gone.” Camber tweaked the edge of the golden spoiler.

 “I just want to stretch my wheels, Camber. It’s not like I'm going to run off forever or something. Nyon is home, always has been always will be. I’ll be back later. I just... I want to get out and see what there is to see.”

 Camber knew Hot Rod wouldn’t be convinced to stay today. “Look just be careful okay? And try not to get into trouble? Things are getting ugly out there Roddy. Something bad is coming. I can feel it.”

 “What your old war wound acting up? Seriously, Camber, I’m just going out to stretch my wheels. I’ll be back in no time.” Hot Rod tossed a grin over his shoulder before he broke into a run jumping off some nearby rubble and folding into his alt-mode with a flip and a rev of his engine.

 Camber knew his young charge couldn’t hear him, but he hoped maybe Primus would, and their long silent planet-god would intervene. “No little one, not a war wound, the pit of my tank and a twist in my spark. Something is coming, for you.”

 

~

 

 Rodimus sped along the broken roads and derelict thoroughfares leading from his beloved Nyon. The farther he went from the city, the more his spark sang at him. Speed was a freedom he craved and one too often denied. The wind rushed over him. His engine roared at him. This was life. This was everything he needed. A hard pulse through his spark stole him from his revelry. The pain blinded him long enough to send him skidding into a fallen pylon. He fell out of root mode and sat panting against the rubble that had brought him to an abrupt halt. Hot Rod rubbed at his chest without conscious thought. He’d been going too fast after so much time off his wheels, that had to be it. The pain in his spark slowly abated leaving him with a sore shoulder painful, but not enough to keep Hot Rod from his destination. He folded down again driving slower this time. Each bump and jar added to the dull ache in his body. He had a plan for his day out, and nothing would stop him from seeing it through.

 

 

 


End file.
